So much more…

I can’t stress it enough! Ok, I get it! I know you’re more the just a pretty face. You’re smart, witty, funny, adorable and full of life. I get it! But what I don’t get is why you never show anyone else that you’re all these things? Why does it always have to be a reassurance pick-up line when some guy thinks you going down the “I’m more then my looks path”.

Ok, let me be straight up with you, I didn’t know you where anything else buy a pretty girl when I stepped to you, and to be honest I thought you where also misguided, shallow and mean. Why you ask? Because before I even said anything to you, you looked at me like I wasn’t worth a damn.

Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t judge you right away because you judged me first, I let my conversation with you decide the rest. After that I assumed you had no sense of awareness, I cam e to this conclusion because you couldn’t sense my positive aura or my sincerity. To add to this, you found it very necessary to point out all of my flaws and personal quirks. So now I assumed you where not only rude, but that you where also uptight and a bad judge of character.

Luckily for you I can look into the heart of people, see past their outward façade and view what’s in their heart. So when I stared into your eyes to see if you meant any of the things you where saying, my conclusion was… no, you didn’t mean any of it. So why? Why did you say cruel things you didn’t mean or be someone who you clearly aren’t? Was it a test? Ok, I’ll assume it was just a test and try to pass it with flying colors. What then? I get it now, you actually have a sense of humor, you like to laugh and talk about things important to you. Was it really that hard?

Look, I’m not saying you should show everyone who you really are. If it’s one of those pleasures that you have to earn, or be worthy to experience, I get it. Just know that first impressions are really all that people have to work with these days; getting to know someone isn’t as easy as most would like it to be. So even if you might be smart, witty, funny, adorable and full of life; don’t be surprised if the average person can’t see it. I’m not saying wear your heart on your sleeve, but your personal character should be just as visible as your lovely smile.

I’m just sayin’.

-streetPoet007

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The look-out lady.

Yeah, I see you watchin’ me; I pay attention to things like that. Is this entry of mine an outlet to brag about that fact? No. I’ve never been the bragging type; I like to savor things in silence. I’m simply letting you know that I see you too. So why haven’t I done anything about it yet? Well, it’s simple and complicated at the same time. I know it sounds like an excuse to keep you in suspense, but allow me to explain.

There are several things I’ve noticed about myself when it comes to women, but I’ll just keep it simple and tell you one of them. I like to spoil you, indulge in you and utterly enjoy your company. Sometimes I can get carried away with it. There was a time I had different goals and agendas, a time when a lady in my life was a great idea. Things are different now, and I have much bigger issues I need to take care of before I even think about seducing you.

Now don’t get it twisted, I’m pretty sure you would settle for part of me and that’s not to say I think you would stoop so low, or that piece of me is better then you’ll have with any other guy. What I believe concerning you is that you deserve better then that. I want to give you better then that and I’m afraid if I taste just a little of what that could be like I’ll lose sigh of what I’m doing.

Part of me hopes that you’ll be patient and wait for me to reach the goals I’ve set for myself; that you can see the person I want you to see, appreciate, praise and love. The rest of me knows better then that; that part of me knows that nothing lasts as long as you’d like it to, and that asking you to wait on me wouldn’t be fair, or realistic. I know you have goals too; your race shouldn’t stop just because it’s convenient for me, should it?

Until that day I’ll be watching you in the corner of my eye, seeing what it is you do next, just as you will probably be watching me. The moment you take your eyes off of me, I’ll notice. I’ll likely be saddened by it too, but that is the rolling stone we call progression, the act of moving forward. Why would I ever expect you to stand still? If you ever lose sight of me that’s fine; maybe one day you’ll see me on the T.V. screen?

-streetPoet007

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I piss excellence.

Self praise isn’t something I’m too unfamiliar with; I mean, for the most part I praise myself for almost everything I do well and that I’m sorta proud of. It’s not easy doing great things in a day, and it’s not easy being good at what you do when you’re doing it; or is it?

You see, I’ve come to learn that some of the things I’m so proud of aren’t really as great as I would like to think. I realize achievements are worthy of praise, but what kind of achievements should a person be reward for accomplishing; short-term goals, long-term goals, writing a book, what exactly? I have to wonder at times if my narcissism is another obstacle in my path of achieving great things.

I had to go back in the mind when I was younger and remember all of the negative things people said about me and how they would constantly compare someone they considered better then myself or suggesting I should be more like that person. Even as a child I knew better then to let those suggestions bother me all that much, however it was the illusion that made me the most upset. I knew what excellence was, and that person was not a good example of it at all.

Excellence is the highest degree of good, and if you’re doing slightly better then the people you know, that’s good. However, you should always keep in mind that comparing yourself to others who aren’t on your level will always make you look good. To ensure that you are as magnificent a person as you believe yourself to be, then you should surround yourself with people who feel the same way you do. Even better, surround yourself with individuals who have proven their excellence and put it to test against others of the same caliber.

I believe it very true that you can announce yourself as the best, a great person, and an excellent human being only when you are tested. I say brag about how smart you are when you win top of the class at a university know for its intelligent students. I say brag about how gorgeous you are after winning a Miss America contest. I say you talk about how hood you are or tough you are after winning a championship boxing match. I say claim the position as King of your city only after you have proven no other King is worthy of it.

I have excellence to spare, and it has been tested ever since the age of three. I’ve got throwbacks; I’m a renaissance man so to speak, what about you?

-streetPoet007

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Cutie Pie

Please don’t get me wrong when I say this, but I’m not a “face man”. I mean, I love a pretty face just as much as the next guy; but it’s not really that important to me. If it could be said I had a preference, you could label me as a man who admires a nice physique. I like curves, I like legs, I love hips and thighs and a pretty face isn’t bad either.

Now I’ve seen pretty faces, lots of them. All are unique and special in their own way, but I’ve never seen a young-lady so pretty that she glowed. I don’t mean the type of glow a woman has when she’s feeling good about herself, or when she smiles at your jokes, or she’s in love. These things are radiant and beautiful; this is true. However, this glow I’m speaking of is quite unique to this particular girl.

After giving it some thought and trying to come up with a way to explain this phenomenon, the best I came up with was this: “Her glow is not one of radiance, but an ambient glow. It is not a glow that brightens up dark places but rather intermixes with the darkness to become a hazy luminance. Her brilliance and the dark are not separate characters, but share the same principles.” So in my analysis of her glowing aura, I have come to the conclusion that I have discovered something rare and unheard of.

I guess this is the part where I speak on her inner character and personality which fills a room with joy and enthusiasm, but I can’t do that. She is nothing like that at all; her brilliance shines in a place that cannot be measured by such common words. The beauty of her face ventures into places that men and women cannot speak of without taboo implications. Her sparkling eyes do not inspire your heart to melt, but rather sets your heart on fire and drives you to do things naughty and distasteful.

I tried to resist her dark flame, but I was drawn into her mysteriously cold warmth like a helpless moth. She could have nearly destroyed my entire world in a single day, but it was only because I was a “true-life poet” that I survived her wrath. I’d be a fool to fall for her malevolent charms again, but how can I say no to warm fresh slice such as she, especially when she tastes so sweet? How can something so sinister be so cute?

-streetPoet007

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It's on Record (Part II)

It’s always the same, first you hide your face and giggle like a little school-girl, and then you throw things at me telling me to “turn it off”. After that, you try to pretend like its not even there, and then I play right along. Suddenly you fall in love with the lens and then you can’t stop staring into it. If the timing is right, you do amazing things for the lens that you’d normally never do without it. What is this phenomenon?

I swear I don’t understand you at all. You’re the most complicated creation on earth, you know that? I really had to learn the hard way that “no” really does mean “yes” sometimes. Trying to figure out when those times are ain’t easy at all. I admit, I kind of feel guilty from time to time ignoring a blatant “no”, but shouldn’t it have turned out bad with a rejection? You played right along anyway, so I guess you meant yes?

I pray the day never comes when you say no and really mean it, if that day comes; I might never recovery from the guilt. I just want to have a good time, and I want you to be a part of it. I hate having to drag you to places all the time, you seem to enjoy yourself once you get there, so what’s the problem? Are you determined to be a boring person? Is your phunometer broken? Why is it you can’t simply be where you say you’ll be? Should I even bother calling you when I wonder where you are, it’s not like you’ll answer.

I have to be honest with you; this is getting quite bothersome my dear. Having to force you into having a good time is becoming very old. It’s only when I watch you on film am I convinced you are more fun then I give you credit for, but these moments are few. I smile when you smile at me, but I have to realize you are smiling at the camera, no me. It’s not so special anymore. It was you I cared about a long time ago, I really did, but you didn’t like to come out and play with me as much as I did you.

So now, all I care about is the girl on film. She is everything I wanted, everything I hoped you would be, but you and she are not the same. Beyonce understands; she even made a song about it. I’ve never been a fan of Beyonce until that very day, but I admit I loved her as “Foxy Cleopatra” in Gold Member. What am I saying? She knows, as much as I don’t truly care for her music, I do appreciate that she truly understands “me”? It was always about you, but you made it about “you”. Still don’t get it huh?

Well, I guess I can never have you back. Maybe you’re gone forever, but at least I have it on record.

-streetpoet007

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Perfect 10

So the story goes kinda like this, I see girl, I think girl looks amazing, I think girl looks a little TOO amazing, I am pretty convinced girl is the finest thing I’ve ever seen, I conclude I could never hook up with girl in 1000 years, I leave girl alone for now. As funny as this all may sound, I went even farther with it after I was able to review some of her previous work. I said to myself, “This girl doesn’t like guys, I can tell”.

Now don’t get me wrong, I know you are thinking that I probably made this excuse up as a way of making myself feel better about her being out of my league; I even thought I was doing this, but the more I saw her work, the more I said to myself “There is no man on earth who could pull that, there can’t be… she has to be gay, there is no other possible plot twist to this story”! If in fact there was a time she was straight (which I doubt), I am sure the guy who was lucky enough to be her man was blessed by the heavens, and I seriously hate him if he exists.

Aside from the comedy of this interesting circumstance, I actually had the chance to confirm my suspicions on a few occasions, and it gets worse. It appears that if she does like just girls, they ALSO have to be hot-as-hell too! WOW! So now I’m like, if you are a guy who’s interested in her, you have to look better then or equal to her or your S.O.L. This is all running through my mind every-so-often, and it always starts with me having to review her portfolio for one reason or another. So I say to myself, “I want to employ her for some of my own projects, I need a closer look at this mysterious woman”.

Please don’t forget, I had already made up my mind that there could never be anything between us, I mean… she’s amazing. Perfect smile, perfect legs, perfect feet, perfect build, perfect hair, perfect voice, perfect vocabulary and a perfect walk, just… perfect everything. This girl is so perfect that when she walks past, you can feel her ambiance penetrate your spirit, then set it on fire right after! She’s a bad biish, and I kid you in NO such way! However, in this strange turn of events when her and I where able to make direct contact… it was different.

On a usual day she seems distant, avoidant, flaky, and phony… sort of like she is being nice because it’s what people do, not necessarily because that’s the person she is. Now this may seem like something a hater would say, and don’t get me wrong, I probably was one at first, but this time it was different. I think for the first time she actually saw me, not when you physically see someone because they are in front of you, no, not like that. I think she actually “saw” me, I say that in the manner as if “I stood out from the crowd”.

Of course this could have been my vivid imagination, and I didn’t doubt that one bit, but it was when she came back to hang around for a while was I totally sure. “No way…” I said to myself, “No f**kin’ way…”. If I actually managed to pull this rare jewel, it would feel like winning the “pick-6 lotto”, I would probably pass the hell out, and wake up in an ambulance. Naw, seriously though, I would excuse myself to the restroom and celebrate like a mad-man though. Finally, it was when I smiled at her that I was sure my suspicions where accurate, and when her almost as equally gorgeous girlfriend had come, drag her away, and gave me the “ice grill” it was a wrap.

If this story ends the way I think it will, no one, and I mean “not a damn soul” can tell me I ain’t GAWD. I’m not really into chasing dreams though; I’m more interested making them a reality… I tell you one thing though, I’m not into sabotaging relationships or coming between people, but if on some odd day she comes to me poppin’ that lip gloss in my ear, the word “no” will not be escaping my mouth. She better watch her girlfriend… closely…

…and here I am droppin’ dimes.

-Shaum

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The mating game.

I know she wonders about me often, but there was a time she never gave me a second thought. She did like me, but probably not like that. Things have changed over the past few weeks, words have been said, timing was on my side, circumstances presented themselves as opportunity, and things happened. Maybe it was fate; maybe it was a dice roll, who can say really? The important thing now is to let things flow in the direction best for her and me, I won’t leave it to chance anymore.

It was around a good time when I was busy making things happen for myself (and my circle of associates), when she so happened to fall into my life again. When I say she, I don’t mean “her” specifically, you see, she changes clothes like the weather changes conditions. Of course she was looking her best that day, but then again, so was I. Even though I’m not one for competitions, “let the games begin”. I don’t like to play, but I do like to win, and she forces my hand every time.

“I just want to get along with you” I say over and over, but it’s never that simple, until I show her yet again I cannot be beaten. “The reason I beat you is because I know all your weaknesses” I tell her. When I go to kiss her after watching her eyes quiver, she turns her head away from me. I haven’t forgotten anything about you, didn’t you know that I love your neck and collarbone just as much as your lips? I guess you didn’t remember I found that your birthmark on your shoulder was tender to the touch?

I enjoy each and every part of you to an equal degree, and that is why you look at me that way. The guy who was your second or third choice is looking ever-more-appealing right now, but it was never me to begin with, it was you, it was always you. When I pull the strap off your shoulder, the rubbing of fabric over your skin is like nothing you have felt before. This is the brief moment you get to look into the mirror and see the parts of you that go overlooked. This is why I make you tremble; you are feeling your own radiance.

Now when I tell you how delicious you look in black, you believe me, and not only do you become a better woman, it makes you high. I know you will run off and try to find this stimulating sensation from an easier target, but you won’t find it anywhere else. The reason you won’t find it has nothing to do with me being one-of-a-kind, no, not at all. You won’t find it anywhere else, because the desire lies with-in. I know you’re afraid of me now, but let me into you once more, and I’ll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

…And believe when I say, it gets pretty deep…

-Shaum
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Tough love.

That’s what it’s all about these days. When you’re a good dude like me, everybody want to toss their luggage at you, tryin’ to get you to carry their $#!t, and just as soon as you call em’ on it, they got everything in the world to say but how they are REALLY feelin’, and admitting what they did. It doesn’t just apply to relationships with friends and family either, it’s especially a problem in mutual relationships. Sometimes you just have to remind the other person “you don’t have to be there”, and even thought I don’t like threatening other people, sometimes you just gotta do it.

It seems to be weird for me that way; everything seems to apply to everything else when I finally get “it”. I mean, it’s even like that when the lights go out, or you’re tryin’ to get-it-in till the early morn’; sometimes you just gotta get a little rough to get the results you want. There was a time when I really didn’t want to hurt other people when I was in a fight, but it cost me my self-esteem and permanent scars when I was more concerned for the other person then my own self, but when I realized that my well being was what mattered most, forcing a person to say uncle, and nearly snapping their bone in two wasn’t so hard anymore. I didn’t like it, but it had to be done.

So I admit, there was a time when I thought that purposely making a lover scream your name, or provoking her to tell you “who’s pu**y it is” (when it’s obviously hers); and other such derogatory mannerisms, where just too abrasive, selfish, and just down right “not nice”. The new me/myself/I realizes that sometimes, it simply must be done. Maybe it makes me seem like some territorial dog, or maybe even an egotistical @$$, but at the end of the day, it gets $#!t done; and you simply cannot argue with results. Who would have known that sometimes, a person actually likes having their spirit broken, their walls busted in, or even their power taken away. I guess they need that.

It never really ‘has’ ever applied to me, I am, and will always probably be a gentle creature by nature. However, the more I begin to search for the things that make me happy, the more I find that I have to be a tougher person, a territorial hound, a keen snake and other shady characters that I don’t enjoy taking the role of. I must admit though, at times, on those odd days, it actually becomes quite a fun venture; simply becoming (for a short moment) an entirely different person. I guess it’s almost like a mask in some ways; me never really being fond of them, I guess I am beginning to see the enjoyment.

So if I torture this woman with pleasurable antics, rather then love her slowly as my conscious self would, she will love me much harder, and even leak this admiration into a form of respect? The dynamics of human behavior never cease to amaze me; I’m almost convinced I’m not of this world. The more I delve into the depths of this unique place, the more lost I become in its tangled web. In the meantime, I can only but enjoy the idea that she now wants me more then other things, and the idea that she is practically begging for me at times make me feel like some kind of god.

I know at the root of it all, it’s just an illusion, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying every minute of it. Is this what they mean by “payin’ the cost to be the boss?”

-Shaum

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See, now that’s kinky!

These are the usual school days that start off slow, and quickly pick up in pace after a few days. Everybody is getting to know each other, the teacher forces you to awkwardly introduce yourself to the class (as if it makes things any easier) and everyone pretty much stays in the cliques they where in last year, until they move on to the next. Yeah, school is pretty much the same familiar bulls**t that gets old quick, but you just have to tolerate.

Unlike most normal people around that time, I refused to make the best out of a bad situation, or to make it worse. All I did was just exist, and remind myself of how much this experience suck’d, so I could work my a** off to get out of it. However, as we all know, school is like jail, if you’re not down with a clique, you’re the “mark”. Things where different when I started going to collage though, I had decided to make a lot of changes in the way I did things early on, so I was pretty much in a good place by the end of the first semester.

You see, school is all about useless bulls**t and popularity contests, and gettin’ people to believe yours, no matter how useless it becomes once you leave. In a way, I started to see the benefits in creating some fake a** façade to carry you through the day and actually make you look forward to coming back at times. Yeah, it was the girls. You see, even though I was under the illusion that girls where smart enough to tell the difference between bulls**t and real s**t, they can’t. Well, I was sort of right, they can, but they can also force themselves to buy into fake s**t for the sake of… well.. I don’t know.

For some reason girls listen to the opinions of their friends more then their own personal values and beliefs, so if a girls friends hear so-and-so about you, then s**t, it must be true. So if rumors are going around that I’m smashin’ fine a** teachers, and the baddest b**ch in school, you best believe I’ll shoot up to the A-list, even if this wanting damsel had never once batted an eye for me before. Even though me and that teacher only had lunch together, and me and **** where just friends, who was I to tell her different? Usually I’d set the record straight when people got me twisted, but to hell with that today.

So if a caramel chica with kinky locks tells me to pull her by the hair and call her a b**ch, well, I guess that’s what I have to do. If you want to brag to all your girlfriends about how great I was last night, that’s fine too, even if I’ve never been with you before. I’m not usually one for all the bogus rumors and fake bulls**t, but every time the girl with the kinky locks strolls up beside me and grabs ma’ arm like I’m her man, I just gotta’ take one for the team. Just when you think you might have found the one, she introduces you to her friends, who just happen to be even more clueless then she is.

Well, I guess I’ll be taking them all to lunch then, won’t I?

-Shaum

Girls who like girls.

I was always curious as to how this worked, do girls look at other girls like I do, or do they look at em’ differently. I mean, if a sexy lady with a nice @$$ walks past, do they look at her like I would look at er’, or is it somethin’ else to this. I just had to know, and when the opportunity came up to give a lesbian lady the 3^rd degree, I didn’t pull any punches. Now keep in mind, ladies tend to speak in code, it’s like they can’t just say what they really want to say unless they’re tipsy, so I had that part taken care of.

So I start to ask her a list of question off the top, makin’ sure to sit next to er’ in a nice and comfy barstool setting, a few drink in er’, and some serious game. I know she didn’t like guys the same way she would moisten up to a fine lady, but I know every woman has a mode, so I had to bring er’ there to get answers. Most of it was layers of bulls**t about emotional attachment and metal sex, blah blah blah, but as she got more liquor in her veins, the truth game out hard.

I couldn’t believe half the things she was telling me, I mean, I know the types of things I would love to do to a sexy dime piece, but I wasn’t nearly on the level she was wit’ it. I had to take mental notes because I was convinced that the s**t she was on would definitely turn a b**ch out. I was always under this impression that dudes where nastier then girls where when it came to “gettin’ it in”, but holy f**k was I wrong. I mean, she really started feelin’ er’self… like literally.

Really, I gotta admit that she kinda drew me in with the detail she was droppin’, and the drinks seem to make her forget I wasn’t her type, if you know what I mean. I was too close to throwing morality out tha’ window, but ma’ boy snapped me back into reality and reminded me that her girl was just in the next room. I didn’t want to break up a perfectly good relationship just cuz I got caught up, but I can’t say I don’t regret it either; at the same time, I kinda feel like I cheated ma’self out. I don’t know.

What I do know, is that girls that like other girls can get down and dirty on a level I never thought possible. I even found out that they have their own sexy s**t, like porn collections of girls makin’ it clap. I was like, WTF? You always find something good when you peel back that fake layer girls like to floss in da’ public eye; but when you pull dat’ curtain back, you better be ready for what comes at you. Dem types of girls go hard as s**t, and it’s no wonder I like em’ so damn much.

Too bad it can’t ever be more then just a fling, and I’m so serious right now.

-Shaum

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Damn baby, that’s tight!

Now, I don’t know about you, but me, I like me some tight spandex pants on a beastin’ body. I just do, I mean, I could tell you why, but you’d never understand. It’s kinda like tryin to tell you all the reasons why you should watch football/WWE with me on Sunday instead of the Lifetime channel. It’s like try’na explain to Kanye West, the meaning of the word “moderation”. You just won’t get it.

The thing that made me bring this up is the ridiculous questions you ladies ask when I say I like somethin’ or I don’t. Askin “why” is bad enough. I mean seriously woman, I know you looked in the mirror before you came out tha house today, you know why I’m lookin at you, and it’s not because I’m wondering how intelligent you are. I would love to find that out later though, but first I need a closer look at that lovely package you got ther’.

I want to ask you a question now, how in-the-f**k did you get those tights on? I mean it’s not like I’m complainin’, but damn, just… look at that $#!t, it’s impressive all by itself, not even adding in the fact that your lookin right as $#!t, but gawd damn! You know what? I’ll make it simple for you. “I like the way you’re dressed right now because it looks like you just have on a shirt, no pants, and somebody just painted a bunch of pretty flowers and roses on your fine, juicy, delicious lookin’ buttocks.”

Seriously though, there is no way to tell you how right you look without sounding offensive, better yet, if I even tried to sound romantic, or sophisticated wit’ it, It would sound corny as $#!t, and phony as $#!t. I remember everyone was trippin’ off me messin’ with a blonde chick a while back, but this was the reason why I was so crazy about her @$$. I mean, did you see how she was lookin’ on those odd days? I gotta admit I was the one who bought her those tight black yoga pants, and damn was it worth it!

The point is, I’m not as shallow as you may think, and I don’t just like a girl for one thing. Tights are just my kryptonite, I can’t help it; that’s just the way it is. How about I do you one better and let you in on a secret. If you ask me to do somethin’, or I’m mad at you and you want to have things ya way, just toss on a pair of skin-tight sweatpants and sit on ma lap. I promise I’ll do anything you ask.

Seriously, I will… no bull$#!t.

-Shaum

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I'm in love with a stripper.

No not really, but I must say that these kinds of girls seem to gravitate toward me. I don’t get it; all I ever wanted was a nice classy girl who is as crazy about me as I am about her. All I seem to run into are heartless, shameless women who only want one thing. It’s so common now that I don’t even bother trying to hook up with a classy girl anymore; it always turns out the same way. I mean, I have good conversational skills, I compliment in the best ways, and I’m a good listener. Where the hell did I go wrong?

I really miss middle school and high school, those where some of my most bittersweet years. I admit, school did suck, a lot, but the girls where pretty awesome at that time. I always ended up hooking up with a girl from a different school then me, but it was still a great time for me. Unfortunately I never had the best luck, so something horrible would always happen before I could enjoy the rewards of a good relationship, but the fact that the girls where so much more aggressive back then was great. I mean, I really hate feeling as if I’m making some random girl miserable by trying to get to know her when she just wants to be left alone, but I mean, it’s not like she’d come to me yourself right?

I guess I’m just not selfish enough to be with a classy woman, and maybe I want certain ingredients to mix that just won’t in real life. Strippers are aggressive, they move in ways that make me snake hiss, and they just know what to say, when to say it and how to say it. They tend to be the most gorgeous creatures alive, but their hearts are practically made of stone. You can forget about getting them to open up their hearts to you; that shit just won’t happen.

I can’t really say I’ve been hurt by a stripper girl, but I do tend to get attached and have to remind myself that there is nothing there but a good time for as long as it lasts. I want more then that, and these sexy divas from exotic dancers to runway models are just too coarse. Does this mean that all the girls who have the smallest ounce of interest in me are only the ones who are beyond loving? Do I only attract the heartless harpies of the earth or what?

I just want to feel free to be crazy about a girl and know it’s not a feeling that is misplaced. Any girl who might actually be wife material doesn’t seem to want to have the least amount to do with me. So what do I do? I can’t make someone love me. I guess as a Jersey boy, I take some getting used to, but I don’t want to be an acquired taste. This is bullshit, and my heart is just lying in my chest being unused. It would be cool to have a nice girl who is just crazy about me, and I can be crazy about her and have it grow to something amazing.

Until then, I’m just some guy who certain types of girls want to f**k and we go our separate ways, be someone’s cougar bait, or just be some poor girls rebound. “I want to be the guy”, is that too much to ask for? Until then it’s strippers, models and fast @$$ girls for me, until I somehow get better pheromones workin’ in my favor; such a sad existence for a guy who just wants to love someone, but simply isn't allowed to.

So I guess I’ll just have to settle for something more exotic, and not in a good way either.

-Shaum